


tiger (orphaned)

by cloudywithachanceofme



Series: once upon a time, in a galaxy far, far away... [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bodyswap, Child Neglect, Drunken Shenanigans, Drunkenness, Dubious Morality, Feral Ahsoka, Feral Behavior, Gen, Identity Issues, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Mirror Universe, Moral Ambiguity, Mortis (Star Wars), Post-Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith, Sharing a Body, Sith Ahsoka Tano, Stockholm Syndrome, That's Not How The Force Works, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:48:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26359744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudywithachanceofme/pseuds/cloudywithachanceofme
Summary: “'Are you confident in your ability to complete the task?', the Son asks her.It’s a trick question, one which she has long since, through trial and error, learned the answer to. 'I am confident in your teachings to guide me to success', she answers, letting loose a breath of relief at the pleased look her master gives her.'Don’t let me down', he says before the mists warp and Ahsoka once more finds herself lying on a cot in the middle of a battlefield.". . .She has a soul. It is stretched across two galaxies, living two distinct lives that, by all means, were never meant to learn the existence of the other.But for a moment, on cold day in 20 BBY, the distinction had blurred. For a moment, one half had perished, and both galaxies seemed to sing with opportunity.It's three years later.And he has a plan.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, CT-7567 | Rex & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Ahsoka Tano, The Son | Fanged God & Ahsoka Tano
Series: once upon a time, in a galaxy far, far away... [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1930735
Comments: 15
Kudos: 36





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [tiger](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24339709) by [orphan_account](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account). 



> Hey! I'm not sure where this is going. This fic was apparently orphaned, so I'm just taking this where I'd like to see this go. Can't say when I'll be updating.  
> Anyways. The rape/non-con refers to the nature of Sithsoka's relationship with the Son. I don't plan to have anything really explicit, but I will be posting in the notes each chapter if there'll be any references to it. The violence is also a reference to Sithsoka in general, she's got some homicidal tendencies that'll put canon Soka to shame :3. I'm also going with a mature warning because shit's gonna get pretty fucking mature lol. No sex, just some heavy topics that I think are more intense than my usual shit.  
> Aside from that, I really hope y'all like this lol. Excluding the touchiness of Sithsoka's issues (I do plan to handle them delicately), it's gonna be pretty chaotic and angsty, and that's exactly my cup of tea.

There isn’t much room to navigate her cell. And with her connection to the Force muffled by her shackles, Ahsoka finds herself relying upon her other senses. Granted, they aren’t much help, given that she’s more or less surrounded by a sea of darkness and a chunk of her left lek is gone.

_ The other me _ , Ahsoka thinks, shuddering at the perpetual coldness that seems to seep beneath her skin. Force and the way he’d look at her. Almost proudly, like Anakin and Obi-Wan once had after some impressive feat or another. She hates the way her soul reacts to him, a tugging motion like string. It takes a moment for her to place what exactly it is, and when she does, she nearly vomits.

A Force bond.

She has a Force bond with the Dark Side incarnate. As if this day hadn’t already been off to a glorious start.

“Okay”, Ahsoka stresses, forcing herself to sit up and concentrate on the task at hand, which would be figuring out where she is and what’s happened to her. It’d thrown her for a bit of a loop earlier, but her lekku is a major indicator that she isn’t in her own world. If the wound were recent, she would’ve been, at best, in a coma and, at worst, less aware than that. But Ahsoka feels fine; more than fine, considering the circumstances, and a good look at the lek in question shows it’s healed, potentially years after the fact. That coupled with the Son’s earlier statement about “others” only further convinces her that not only is she in another universe, but she’s also in her alternate version’s body.

Which would, logically, mean the alternate Ahsoka is masquerading as herself. And if the Son is to be believed, it’s with the end goal of turning Anakin to the Dark Side. Because why the fuck not? That’s obviously what people are doing for kicks these days. 

“There’s gotta be a way out of here”, Ahsoka grumbles; she glares at her shackles, then, carefully, rises to her feet and begins to look about her cell. There’s enough room for her to comfortably walk around. Actually, it’s probably the most spacious cell she’s ever been held in. She isn’t so naive as to think this a good thing, though. It’s a sort of psychological ploy, an effort to give her the illusion of freedom with the walls reinforcing that it’s the exact opposite. 

_ It wouldn’t be that bad _ , she thinks grumpily.  _ If I still had the Force. _ At least then, she’d still be able to reach out, search for other signs of life, send a message out into the Force to request for backup, warn Anakin that the freak attempting to make contact with him isn’t his former Padawan.

But there’s no point in gripping over things that can’t be changed, no matter how irritating it is. Not when she can be using that energy on escaping. 

“Hello!”, Ahsoka calls out, a shocking snarl ripping its way out of her throat. She wavers, a hand coming up to press against her throat. She looks down at the floor, opens her mouth, and startles at the sight of her teeth. Her canines are frightening, filed past even the point of Togrutan sharpness to give her the appearance of something truly feral. Once the initial shock’s faded, Ahsoka finds herself filled with pleasure, the same as she would upon eating tooka meat. It’s a short-lived pleasure, immediately replaced with a more familiar shame. That’s not to say Ahsoka’s ashamed of her biology, but she’s never been one to flaunt her more animalistic traits.

Evidently, this Ahsoka knows no such shame.

_ “Are you hungry?” _ , a voice calls out from the Force, prompting a full-body shiver from Ahsoka, followed by a rather demanding growl from her stomach. Her hand goes to wrap around her middle as she turns about herself, searching for a source. Of course, there isn’t one.

_ “How do I know you didn’t poison it?” _ , Ahsoka returns, grasping blindly throughout the Force and beyond aggrieved when she comes up empty.

_ “You don’t” _ , the voice merely chuckles before a beam of light suddenly trickles in from the floor. When it grows too bright, Ahsoka skitters back towards the wall, a hiss escaping her as she seeks to escape the light.

It’s only when the sound of something squeaking meets her ears does Ahsoka lower her arm, body tense as she stares at a womp-rat before her.

“Listen, asshole, I’m not some pet”, Ahsoka snaps, crossing her arms over her chest and keeping her feet narrowly planted on the cold floor. Although she’s never found rodents appealing before, it’s definitely looking appealing now, a fact which is nothing short of infuriating.

_ “The other you never objected” _ , the voice simply retorts.

“Well, I’m not her. Obviously.” Concentrating on the clink of her shackles, she closes her eyes, then says, “I’m going to get out of here. And then I’m going to kill you. And I’m gonna enjoy it, too”. It becomes something of a mantra for her, one which she knows would’ve earned the ire of Obi-Wan and even Anakin, but she clings to it all the same. Chained as she is, her senses deprived as they are, it’s all she has left. 

_ “Are you sure you’re not my apprentice?” _ , the Son chuckles, drawing a clenched fist from Ahsoka.  _ You’re certainly starting to sound like her. _ He sounds closer now, and Ahsoka has just to turn around to realize it’s because he’s behind her. She holds her ground, tilting her head up and narrowing her eyes.

“Anakin has been to hell and back”, she informs him coolly. “After all that’s happened, he would never join the Dark Side.”

“Funny”, the Son says with a light shrug. “I hear that a lot. Never turns out to be true...and in this case, I’m inclined to believe otherwise. Afterall, this time.” A cruel smile creeps onto his face. “The Dark Side comes in the form of you, someone he cherishes like the suns of his homeworld.”   
The skin beneath Ahsoka’s eye twitches, and breathing becomes an arduous effort. “Why even come to my world?”, she bites out, eyes momentarily flicking to where the womp-rat has begun to move before returning to his own. “What, was world-domination not as pretty as it cracked up to be?”

“Actually, it was everything it cracked up to be”, he chuckles, shoulders bouncing with laughter. “But this isn’t exactly a, what do you call it, solo gig. And as it stands, there aren’t many others worthy of the title of Apprentice to the Fanged One.”

“Because you murdered them all?”, Ahsoka asks, an eye marking raised. She then frowns, forcing herself to step away from the rat running towards them. “What about me? Or...this world’s me anyway?”

“Ah. My sweet, sweet Ahsoka. A mere tool, unfortunately”, the Son admits, eyes flaring a smoky red as he draws closer. “This, arguably, wouldn’t have been as fun without her.” He curls his fingers into a soft fist, head tilted as he observes her. “But there’s a time for fun, and there’s a time for business. And the time for fun has, sadly, passed.”

Ahsoka just scoffs, shaking her head at him. “So she’s your puppet?”, she prompts, incredulous. It’s unsettling to think of herself as anything but herself, much less pledging her undying loyalty to a creature as vile as the Son. But to see that loyalty unrequited is nothing short of pitiable, even if the subject in mind isn't of the pitying type. 

The Son just smiles, sharp and glistening in the otherwise dark room, and simply says, “She is whatever I need her to be”.

_ Well, that’s not creepy _ , Ahsoka thinks, the thought interrupted at the womp rat lets out a squeak. An ache settles deep within her fangs, and Ahsoka shudders, angered by the knowing light in the Son’s eyes.

“I did my research, you know.” He sidesteps her, blending into the shadows of the wall before reappearing all the way across the room. “Togrutan. They’re predators, apex, if I’m not mistaken. It’s not healthy for you to suppress your nature.”

“I’m not suppressing anything”, Ahsoka growls despite the flushing of her lekku, but the Son is walking away, smoke appearing at his feet.

“I get the feeling we’re going to get along swell”, he beams before disappearing and leaving Ahsoka more perplexed than before.

She turns her gaze upon the womp-rat, chastising herself as she allows her canines to drop and approaches it.

: : :

Never let it be said that Ahsoka is good with machines.

One of her master’s earliest teachings, never rely on anyone but yourself. And if you must, never rely upon a machine. In hindsight, he probably hadn’t meant for her to take his teachings quite literally, which, in Ahsoka’s case, meant using ships rather stoically. It’s led her to many situations such as these, being in an unfamiliar ship, with no means of using it.

“Damn thing!”, Ahsoka snarls, kicking at a control panel until it comes loose. She bears her teeth, pulls back a fist, and goes to punch it to pieces, only to come up short at the sudden hand that finds itself upon her shoulder. Lekku flush with embarrassment, body recoiled at the expectant backhand, she turns around and finds Luminara standing behind her. Waiting at the base of the ramp is Obi-Wan, along with Rex, Gree, and the one called Cody. She narrows her eyes at them, then crosses her arms over her chest, and raises a questioning at Luminara.

“I don’t think breaking it is the solution”, the Jedi master states pointedly.

Ahsoka just grits her teeth, keeping her emotions carefully wrapped around her. It’s unnerving. Unless it’s in the middle of a crucial mission or her master bids it, Ahsoka’s never had to keep her emotions hidden. It’s going to be tiring that, for the duration of this mission, she’ll not only have to worry about other Force-wielders but also about herself. She crosses her arms over her chest, simply muttering, “I had it handled”. 

Rex, upon making his way into the ship, raises his eyebrows and quips, “Instead of using your ‘genius mechanic skills’?”

She just frowns and says, “What?”, watching him confusedly before it dawns upon her. Because of course the deserter would be competent at machinery. She ignores the ugly, gnarly tendril of jealousy coursing through her and averts her eyes. “Oh. Right.” Her back turned to the group, she turns to look over the control panel. The Son, he’d be disappointed. Lashing out like that hadn’t accomplished anything, aside from getting her some rather unwanted attention and leaving her more stranded than she’d initially been.

After a moment of standing there uselessly, she huffs and murmurs, “I, uh, think it’s gonna take a stronger touch than mine.” Not awaiting a reply, she then turns around and lets her eyes settle upon Kenobi. It’s...strange, seeing him so lucid. But it’s no matter. In a few months’ time, when she’s lured Skywalker over to their side, he won’t be nearly as composed. She clears her throat, gesturing towards one of the back rooms. “Kenobi. Can I speak to you?” Ahsoka just barely refrains from flicking her gaze onto the others. “In private.” 

Kenobi just watches her, eyes piercing, before nodding and following her. “Of course.”

This ship is too large. Not to mention too cozy. For a former Jedi, her alternate self sure has a lot of possessions. She brushes a blanket off a chair, gesturing for Kenobi to take a seat. She herself remains standing, pleased for the leverage it seems to give her.

_ Do not fool yourself _ , her master would say, lips twisted into a vicious smile.  _ He could kill you if given the chance. _

“Ahsoka?”, Kenobi prompts, brows drawn with worry, and it just annoys Ahsoka how she responds to it, an alien nostalgia blossoming through her chest. “Do you have something to tell me?”

She blinks, then blinks again, the image of her grief-stricken, rageful Kenobi lunging wildly behind her eyelids. Crossing her arms to keep them from trembling with her alternate’s horror, Ahsoka clears her throat, taps her fingers against the insides of her arms, and says, “Yes. It’s about Anakin”.

Luminara had been less than helpful, but, as far as Ahsoka knows, she and the deserter never had much of a relationship, aside from their connection with Barriss. Kenobi on the other hand…

“Master Unduli”, she continues, quietly chastising herself at the raised eyebrow she receives. “I asked her about him earlier, but I wasn’t able to get much out of her.”

Kenobi nods, seeming deep in thought before he answers her unspoken question. “He shouldn’t be gone for much longer, but it is a...delicate mission. He’ll remain out of contact for another two weeks, three at the most.”

Well. That’s three weeks more than she’d planned uselessly navigating the deserter’s body. But if waiting is what it takes to accomplish this task, then Ahsoka will wait. Even if it does aggravate the shit out of her.

“You’re welcome to accompany me when I go to meet him at the end of the mission”, Kenobi says, and Ahsoka gives a noncommittal grunt. This is likely all she’ll learn about said mission. He’s become useless, utterly useless. “Ahsoka”, Kenobi says then, voice suddenly stern. She flicks her gaze to him, noting the way the panel beside him casts a flicker of blue across his face. It makes her think, once more, of her Kenobi and how, once the adrenaline of the moment had faded, frightful she had been. Not necessarily of him but of herself. Of what she had done.

“Yes, master?”, Ahsoka acknowledges, the words slipping past her lips with ease. At the slightly uncomfortable look Kenobi gives her, she amends, forcing her features to soften, “Is there something  _ you _ wanted to ask me?” It seems the kind of thing this version of herself would ask. Compassionate would probably best describe her.

“Luminara”, Kenobi eventually says, fingering his beard. “She’s expressed a concern for you. And now that I’m here, I-”   
“I am fine”, Ahsoka assures him, laughing to better persuade him. “I just didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“I’d imagined not”, he concurs wryly. “Rex tells me you spent the night in a tree.”

_ That little sneak.  _ Not bothering to look him in the eye, Ahsoka humphs, walking aimlessly about the room before defending herself with, “It was a comfortable tree”.

“I’m sure it was.” He’s quiet for a moment more before he gently says, “How are you, Ahsoka?”

She just scowls at him, feeling deeply unsettled. Whether or not the deserter’s brain is having an effect on her, Ahsoka’s still retained much of her own, and it’s not often that people asked her that question. Of course, she did murder the galaxy, so that’s not exactly surprising. 

Still. It’s odd to see someone with the face of the man she once broke asking about her  _ feelings _ . If given the chance, she’s certain her Obi-Wan would gladly rather slice her face open than have a heart to heart. “I’m fine”, Ahsoka says, flicking at the dead switches along the wall. “...How are you?”

Kenobi just watches her, seeming unconvinced but nonetheless giving her a small smile. “I’m well, Ahsoka.”   
“Good. Glad we cleared that up.” She gives the switches one last flick, startled when the ship begins to hum before Luminara calls out, “You should be ready for flight!” Her shoulders sag as she turns to face Kenobi and awkwardly says, “This really isn’t meant for more than one person”.

“...Right. Will you be following us to Coruscant?”

Why not? If she’s really gonna live here for three weeks, plus the time it takes to turn Anakin, she might as well spend as much time learning about this place as possible. “I know the way”, she replies with a twitch of a smile. It’s not a lie. The Son’s taken her there plenty of times, to flaunt the beginnings of his siege of the galaxy. 

There’s something guarded yet sad about his eyes as Kenobi turns and leaves, filtering out of the ship along with Luminara, Cody, and Gree. Rex remains, and Ahsoka lets him, faintly recalling that he and her alternate have something of a close relationship.

_ Shit _ , she thinks, “allowing” the Commander to take the pilot’s seat.  _ He better not screw this up. _ He spends the better part of the flight focusing on the ship they’re following but otherwise trying to pry something out of Ahsoka about what she’s been doing in her absence. It’s awkward, given that there’s a lot Ahsoka generally doesn’t know, but it’s also nice. 

Which is good, of course, because nice people are always fun to break. It’s not like the man’s efforts are endearing or anything, in the way that Ahsoka’s always imagined fathers to be. She is eagerly awaiting the moment when she can drop this facade and cut down any sense of camaraderie that might’ve existed between her alternate and her Commander. Very eagerly. In fact, if the fate of this mission didn’t depend on her discretion, Ahsoka would throw caution to the wind and stab Rex, right now, with no hesitation. 

“Wanna hear anything?”, Rex asks, gesturing vaguely to the air and the music pulsing about the cockpit.

Ahsoka just stares at him, uncertain like she rarely is before she, hesitantly, responds, “...This song will suffice”.

Rex rolls his eyes, giving her the distinct impression that there’s a joke she’s missing, and lets the song remain. Ahsoka settles into her seat, then takes a moment to actually listen to the song in question. She’s never been one for music, and even if she were, she’s certain it wouldn’t be of this genre. Still. It’s nice to’ve been offered a choice.

If there were a Togrutan-equivalent of a tooka arching its back, Ahsoka would probably be doing it now. As it stands, she just turns her back to Rex and feigns sleep, all the while listening as the man begins to sing along to every song that comes on, off-key no less. It’s honestly not that bad, but Ahsoka still thinks of several ways in which she could kill him and continues to do so until her nerves have settled. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I know it's been a minute, but here's the next chapter. Can I just say, the difference between writing sithsoka and "deserter"soka is honestly staggering, I feel like I really jumped off the deep end lol.  
> Also, I'm not as well-versed in Star-Wars lore/terminology as I'd like to be so please bear with me 😔😔😔, I promise I'm doing my best to make it feel as "Star Wars"y as possible.

When Ahsoka wakes up, her shackles are gone, and the door to her cell is wide open, the light from the hallway filtering in like pus from a festering wound. 

“Okay”, Ahsoka drawls, stretching out the word as she takes a single step outside the cell. Her footsteps echo loud in her ears, and Ahsoka flinches, eyes narrowed as she awaits capture. When nothing happens, she allows her stance to loosen. Peering in either direction, she then takes a deep breath, takes another step, then another, and murmurs to herself, “This is obviously a trap”.

Nonetheless, it’s a trap that she’s gonna at least attempt to take advantage of. After being locked in that dank cell for fuck knows how long, it’s a bit hard navigating a sudden world of light, but, somehow, she manages. She actually gets a few paces in before she comes upon a staircase, ascending them with the grace of a shadow until she finds herself standing before a window. Reinforced with an impenetrable glass, of course, but now that her Force is back, she doubts that she won’t find another means of escape. 

Brows furrowed, Ahsoka stares out the window as she considers this. The Force. It’s come flooding back into her, and she welcomes it like a long-lost friend.

But this friend has seen turmoil, struggle. This friend has been beaten, mutilated, until it just barely resembles its former self. Ahsoka reaches out into it as she stares out at the barren wasteland of the Son, shuddering at the feel of two faint life forces. The closest is far more familiar than she would’ve expected.

Although, this is a mirror-universe. It shouldn’t be so strange for other versions of her comrades to exist. But it is. Everything about this is strange.

She crosses the expansive hall before her. And for how exposed she feels, she can’t help but feel like a mouse darting across a kitchen floor. The memory of the Son’s alternate form comes to her, making the analogy hit far too close to home. 

_ Focus _ , Ahsoka chides herself. When at last the cloak of darkness befalls her again, she finds herself relishing in it, not taking the time to wonder why that is as she follows the trail of the life force.

It’s another prison cell, although Ahsoka can’t help but note enviously, this one has a small window in the door. It must exist as a means of taunting, of how very close its prisoners are to freedom. But after being drenched in darkness for so long, it’s still  _ something _ . Never let it be said that forced sensory deprivation is anything but tortuous. 

Bracing her weight, Ahsoka reaches out into the Force and pushes against the door, pleased when it easily caves against her efforts.

_ Definitely a trap _ , she concludes, panting as she swipes the back of her arm over her brow.  _ But it’s still progress. You can work with progress. You can handle this.  _

Then she sees Shaak Ti, dirty and bruised and absolutely  _ pissed _ , chained to the wall, and she realizes, no, she can’t handle this.

She can’t make for a pretty sight. After her...meal earlier, her clothes have been drenched in blood, and she doesn’t need a mirror to know she probably looks like she’s finished hunting. That of course and the fact that she’s probably infamous in this universe for being a murder-lord.

Still. Doesn’t make it any easier. Growing up in a Temple of just two Togrutan, Shaak Ti had become a good friend of Ahsoka’s. To see her, eyes so rich with disgust. It makes for quite the adjustment, particularly when her chest swells with the pride of her alternate.

“You”, Shaak Ti breathes, her chains clanking as she clambers to her feet. She looks...unwell. Malnourished, emaciated. Her lekku have taken on a sickly hue of grey, and her facial markings look like they’re dripping from where her skin dangles from her bones. Where once she had been a figure to which Ahsoka held in high esteem, now, she just wants to toss her over her shoulder and get her as far away from here as possible.

That being said, Shaak Ti is a seasoned warrior, with the same, evidently, being true of her counterpart. And judging by the rather murderous glint to her eyes right now, she’d probably still be able to hold herself in a fight. 

Shaak Ti surges forward, shackles straining against their grip on the stone wall, and Ahsoka holds out her hand, placating. “Wait a minute, wait a minute! I-I’m not who you think I am.”

“Then what are you?”, Shaak Ti snarls, her legs wobbling underneath her. On instinct, Ahsoka takes a step forward, only to retract it at the chilling growl Shaak Ti releases. It makes something unruly, something challenging rise in Ahsoka’s chest, and she finds her body coiling as if to strike. She forces it down, breathing heavily as she watches her.

Speaking of instinct: the lack of restraint her alternate shows concerning her more...primal instincts is nothing short of embarrassing. Although, it goes without saying that, in the years since her departure, Ahsoka herself had been relying more upon them than she had as a Jedi. It’s comforting, she supposes, to know a version of her exists that hadn’t been taught to be ashamed of them. 

Shaak Ti had been different. She never encouraged her to hide her instincts, never chided her for “lack of civility”. She was a glimmer of light in a sea of darkness, and Ahsoka cherished her for it. She alone wasn’t enough, but Ahsoka cherished her all the same. Maybe that’s why it hurts so much, to see that, in some alternate reality, she could’ve done something to tarnish such a tender relationship.

“How did you get here?”, Ahsoka asks, careful to keep her voice soft, quiet. 

Shaak Ti just closes her eyes, then tilts her head back so that it leans against the wall of her cell. “Is that a joke?  _ You _ brought me here.” 

Okay. That would definitely explain the hostility. Ahsoka crosses her arms over her chest, mind ever spread to feel for the presence of other life forces. “...And how did  _ I _ get here?”

“You’re not going to get anything out of her.” A figure in the shadows shifts, revealing a small orange woman. Strange, that Ahsoka hadn’t been able to sense her. “Heathen”, the woman mutters, taking a seat beside Shaak Ti, who’s otherwise checked out of the conversation.

“Excuse me?”, Ahsoka scoffs, hands clenching into fists before she lets loose a breath and allows them to rest evenly at her sides. 

“Everyone always thinks Togrutan are such pretty things”, the woman muses quietly, shifting her goggles so that they rest atop her head. “You sure proved them wrong.” When Ahsoka doesn’t respond, merely simmering beneath her skin, the woman grunts, popping the joints in her elbows before her as she stretches her arms towards the ceiling. “So he let you out of your cage. I was sure he was going to kill you this time.”

Shaak Ti snorts, and Ahsoka just breathes out a laugh. “You don’t sound disappointed”, she notes casually despite her trembling hands.

The woman just nods. She grunts as she rises to her feet, then approaches Ahsoka slowly, big eyes squinting out at her. “Hm.”

“Um”, Ahsoka says, veering backwards, uncomfortable by the sudden intrusion of space. “Hello?”

“You know Maz”, Shaak Ti sighs, legs pulled close to her chest. “She’s rather up-front.”

“What peculiar eyes you have”, Maz mutters, craning her head to get a better look at Ahsoka. Something glistens in her own gaze, and a soft, if confused, smile crosses her face. “You aren’t yourself. Are you?”

She never gets to answer because it’s in that moment that another life force joins them, one which she knows intimately. She’s pulled backwards, the room melting into shadows before she finds herself standing outside her cell once more. And in front of her, there stands the Son, seeming quite amused with himself.

“You wanted me to find them”, Ahsoka breathes, willing the obedience out of her. “Why?”

“Call it pride”, he replies with a light shrug. “I spent quite a time molding my apprentice. It’s always lovely, getting to introduce her to someone else. Even if, in this case, that someone else is herself”.

_ He wants me to know what I’ve done. What she’s done.  _ Instead of dignifying  _ that _ with a response, she says, “Master Shaak Ti?”

The Son just chuckles. “You could say I have a type”, he muses, and Ahsoka snarls, charging forward with an anger that will no longer be restrained. But the Son is nonplussed, merely raising a hand to clamp the Force down around her throat. She hesitates, feeling its pressure grow until she at last meets the man’s stare. He lets her dangle there for a moment, seeming to examine her before he hums and tosses her back down to earth.

“And Maz?”, she wheezes out once she’s gathered her breath, her vision spotted as she looks up from his shoes. 

“She amuses me”, the Son explains simply. “Feisty little thing, much like someone else I know.”

A hiss coils through her chest, but Ahsoka presses it down, disgruntled by how pleased she feels at his approving nod. “You don’t know me”, Ahsoka spits out, only to, seconds later, be tosses back into her cell and left, once more, to rot in the dark. 

. . .

Coruscant is big. And bright. And  _ crowded _ .

Back in her world, Coruscant is a wasteland of a planet, mostly composed of scavengers scraping by after their lives imploded, with an uneasy acceptance of outsiders looking to take advantage of the dystopia they’d drifted upon. Here, Coruscant is a thriving world (on the upper-levels at least), and Ahsoka finds her skin itchy at the thought of having to be around so many people who don’t yet know to fear her.

_ “Remember” _ , the Son had hissed at her in the midst of her training.  _ “Their world won’t be like our own. You won’t be able to be yourself. You’ll have to blend in.” _

_ “Like a chameleon?” _ , Ahsoka had retorted irritably.

And the Son had just smiled and said,  _ “Exactly.” _

And this is certainly a different world. A world that sets her skin afire because the possibilities, for ruin, for despair, for absolute destruction, are endless. It’s terrifying, and it’s exciting. 

Honestly? It’s a little nauseating. 

“Hey.”

She looks to her right, averting her gaze from where Luminara and Kenobi are leading their way throughout the Jedi Temple to where Rex walks alongside her.

“Are you all right?”, the Captain asks, hesitance adding a slight lilt to his words. “You’re looking a little...sick.”

_ I’m gonna hurl _ , Ahsoka thinks bitterly as she plasters a fake smile upon her face. “I’m fine”, she assures him, and the Captain just, ugh, he just  _ looks _ at her, like he’s actually concerned for her well-being. The actual audacity. 

“If you say so”, he says with half a nod, and Ahsoka scowls because, “I did say so”.

“Little Soka”, a voice calls out from behind, and Ahsoka just barely refrains from gritting her teeth.

She turns around, arms folded, and finds Plo Koon approaching her. In her research in the deserter’s life, Ahsoka came up with many blanks; she figures it’s likely a psychological thing on her counterpart’s side. In any case, Plo Koon is not one of those blanks. Her mind flares up at his voice, hurt and anger and all manner of nasty, unflattering feelings for an ex-Jedi.

“It’s nice to see you again”, Plo Koon greets smoothly, and Ahsoka just nods as she notes the rest of the group continuing on without her, Rex casting a nervous glance back in her direction. “Mm hm.” 

“I wasn’t aware that you’d be returning.”

“It was kind of a spontaneous thing”, Ahsoka mutters off-handedly, trembling underneath the force of their bond. If she’s having this much trouble with Plo, she can’t imagine what it’ll be like once they finally find Anakin. 

She opens her mouth, to question him for potential leads on this “top secret” mission of his, only to be cut off by the sound of rushing feet and chattering. She looks over his shoulder, an eyebrow raised at the sight of several young Jedi being rushed down a corridor. Curious, Ahsoka smirks and asks, “What’s all that about?” She’s been called an adrenaline junkie in passing, and, well, she can’t exactly refute when the mere suggestion of battle leaves her trembling with unspent energy. 

“I wouldn’t know”, Plo responds honestly. He turns to go confront the matter, then pauses, rather abruptly, and turns back to face her. “Would you...prefer to accompany me?”

Feeling invigorated, she clenches her fists together, and asks, “Will there be a battle?”

Plo just eyes her with heavy scrutiny, then says, “Yes” and leads her in the direction of the younglings. 

As she comes to learn, there’ve been quite a lot of “skirmishes” just outside the Temple, a sort of last minute, “Fuck you” to the Jedi, Ahsoka doesn’t fucking know, she wasn’t really paying attention. All she knows is it’s an opportunity to kill someone, and it couldn’t have come at a better time. After pretending to be the deserter for two days and being trapped within the pretentious walls of this prison of a Temple, it’s a well-welcomed respite. 

She recognizes Obi-Wan and the two Commanders joining them, along with several younglings that immediately rush over to fawn at her. Ahsoka just glowers, and the younglings pause, ignorantly emitting pulses of anxiety and uncertainty before a little girl with brown skin steps forward and shyly says, “Ahsoka. You’re back”.

Ahsoka forces her face to relax, prying her lips back into a smile. Judging by the near-frightened expressions she gets back, it’s more the smile she flashes in the midst of battle than the tender-hearted smile she was going for. Several children’s names come to mind, along with a feeling of nostalgia and guilt. Ahsoka shakes them off, relying upon the desert’s emotions to pull a more convincing expression. “Yep”, Ahsoka says, with a smile that seems to put them more at ease. “I was in the area.”

“Ahsoka isn’t here for a social visit”, Obi-Wan interjects, throwing Ahsoka for a loop as she actually hears his approach. “There’s a fight between two rivalling factions of a disbanded terrorist organization, and Ahsoka is here to assist.”

Terrorists? Oh, that’s just lovely. There are sure to be casualties. And even if there aren’t, it’d be easy for Ahsoka to lie and say she had no choice but to remove a few heads from their shoulders. “Do they have connections?”, Ahsoka asks, mindful to keep her voice neutral, void of the excitement that’s building within her. “Anyone that would make a counterattack?”

“None that we know of”, Obi-Wan answers, dousing her fire ever so slightly. “Near as we can tell, these factions are the last of their organization.”

Well, that’s disappointing to hear. She was hoping for something to keep her on her toes. But if Master Plo’s to be believed, battles such as these are damn near a dime a dozen. With the war ended, people need something to keep them busy, and the Jedi temple is everyone’s choice of court. 

In any case, Ahsoka can tell as they’re approaching the level in question that the factions are coming to some sort of agreement. They’re annoyingly sound of mind, which leaves her with a rapidly deescalating situation. So, you know, Ahsoka decides to take matters into her own hands and sends them a little gift of “persuasion”.

By the time they’ve arrived, the entire level, and several within the immediate vicinity, have descended into all out war.

Her master would be proud. Ahsoka? Ahsoka’s  _ ecstatic.  _

As Ahsoka’s watching two faction members stabbing each other to death through a pair of macrobinoculars when she registers the feeling of someone tugging on her sleeve. Annoyed, she averts her gaze to look down at the youngling at her side. Petro, if she’s not mistaken. 

“Padawan Tano”, the youngling begins, and Ahsoka makes no move to correct him, despite the urge to do just that. 

“Yes”, Ahsoka says, eyes flickering beyond him as she awaits Rex’s command to launch into battle. Now really isn’t the time for a little pep-talk or whatever the fuck it is he wants. 

“We were wondering if you could give us some tips”, Petro whispers because of course they are. You see, this is why you don’t bring  _ fucking children _ into a warzone. 

Ahsoka flounders for a moment, turning to where the other younglings are watching her expectantly. Behind them, there sits Obi-Wan, dutifully awaiting Rex’s command. He spares her a moment’s glance, his eyes seeming deeply aware, before he turns back to watching the massacre in front of them. 

“Padawan Tano”, Petro says once more, this time with an undertone of impatience. “Before they’re finished killing each other.”

Ahsoka crosses her arms over her chest, sighs, and says, “If it’s moving, kill it. And always make sure you cover your tracks”, then settles in just in time to see a lady’s face melting under the face of a blaster. She can’t even enjoy the sight for what it is because an awkward silence has descended upon the group. Even worse, her force bond with Obi-Wan has grown flooded with suspicion

Two days in and she’s already got her grandmaster on his toes. Her master would be disappointed. 

“I’m just kidding”, Ahsoka tacks on with a light laugh, lowering her macrobinoculars once more to look over the group of younglings before her. She pries her brain for some Jedi-y advice she could give, then settles upon, “Stick to your assigned group formations, keep your stance guarded but loose, and keep in mind that we’re in a civilian space. The goal is to prevent as much damage as possible”. 

That last part, she has to practically choke out, but it seems to appease them. Well, most of them. Obi-Wan is another story entirely. When Rex’s command finally comes through, she’s quick to spring forward, using the Force to soften her landing as she calls out, “See you on the other side!”

To her satisfaction, it isn’t her own bloodlust propelling her, but some of the deserter’s as well. Suppressed, of course, but it’s not like she expected much else from an ex-Jedi. Still, the fact that it’s so easily called upon is exciting. If they had more room, Ahsoka might’ve been persuaded to convince her master to turn the deserter. After all, in her body, it’d be much harder to resist the bloodlust, since it’s not as suppressed as the deserter’s obviously used to. 

In any case, Ahsoka winds up getting a little...overeager in her supposed “deescalation” of the battle. She’s aware that when it comes to civilian-occupied areas, the Jedi try to be more cautious in their efforts, but it’s just, it’s been  _ days _ since she last killed anyone. The feel of her blade cutting through fresh flesh, the sound of blood sizzling, the sight of their bodies dropping to the ground. It’s cathartic like no drug could ever be.

That is, of course, until the end of the battle, whereupon a gentle hand comes to rest on her shoulder. Ahsoka whips her head around, teeth bared, eyes dilated, and snarls at the sight of Plo Koon just a few feet away. He wavers, hands raised in peace, and calmly says, “Soka?”, like that means something to her.

It must mean something to the deserter because it does make Ahsoka settle. Just a bit. Hands trembling, Ahsoka deactivates her lightsaber, then growls down at the sizzling corpse at her feet. That hadn’t been nearly the workout she’d been hoping for, but it’s better than nothing. “What do you want?”, she demands as she returns her gaze to meet his. 

Plo Koon just eyes her for a moment, then asks, “Are you all right?”

“Yes.” Obviously. She’s more than fine. A little drunk on adrenaline, a little nauseous from the deserter’s lingering subconscious, maybe, but she’s fine. She’s  _ great _ .   
“It’s been a while.” He steps over one of the many bodies at her feet, extending a hand that Ahsoka, after a moment of sneering, accepts. “Since you’ve lost control like that.”

“I’ve...changed”, Ahsoka pants, thrilled as her foot slips in a puddle of blood. She flashes her teeth at him and proclaims, “Going back to my roots”.

Plo Koon just nods, then deadpans, “Violence is Togrutan roots?”

If Ahsoka had fur, it would be standing on end. Canines on fully display, she confirms, “Yes”, immediately drawing a concerned, “Would you be open to seeing a spirit healer?” from her companion.

“No.” Ahsoka wipes her forehead with the back of her wrist, then says, “I’d actually like to visit the library”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Insert Sokka gif 🤣🤣🤣.  
> Thank y'all for reading. I'll be updating this sporadically, but I do appreciate everyone who's interacted with this in anyway, and I can't wait til y'all find out what happens next. I'd love to hear how y'all are feeling, so comments are welcome.  
> Anyway, happy last day of September! Bye!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! So starting from here, I'm gonna be doing things a bit different. Each chapter (unless it's a special chapter 😉😉😉) will only be from one of the Ahsoka's perspectives. It gives me more time to plan things out and give each chapter a decent round of editing since I'm not rushing lol. Next chapter's gonna be from Sithsoka's pov, but for now, we're with desertersoka. This kinda starts to link their stories. Hope y'all like it.  
> (Also I've tried giving this a more sci-fi vibe than the previous chapters, spending a lot of time over at wookieepedia lol)

An immeasurable amount of time has passed, with Ahsoka only being able to track time as when she's awake and when she's asleep. It's only judging from her circadian rhythms, coupled with the studying of her alternate’s sleeping patterns, that she's able to deduce that two weeks have passed when the Son opens her cell one day, a smug smile upon his face.

"If you behave, I'll let you out", he promises as Ahsoka struggles under the glare of the light.

Ahsoka just bears her teeth at him, a growl threatening to claw its way from her chest, and the Son titters, opening the door enough to flood her cell with light. When Ahsoka just scampers backward, he chuckles, takes a knee so that they’re at eye level, and says, “Unlike you, I don’t bite”.

“Is that supposed to be reassuring?”, Ahsoka snarls and watches the wide open door with distrusting eyes. 

The Son just hums, eyes peering into hers so heavily. It takes everything in Ahsoka’s power to not cower underneath them. As she’s coming to see, these acts of defiance bring him only amusement instead of the deference she, for some reason, had been hoping for. An uneasy minute has passed of them staring at each other before the Son rises to his full height. He’s still smiling when he turns his back to her and stalks off without another word. Puzzled, Ahsoka just watches him, crawling onto her fours before she stands upright to peek down at the hall after him. After her encounter with her own universe’s Son, Ahsoka’s in no hurry to trust this alternate version of him. That coupled with the memory of what happened the last time she left her cell, and, well, she’s not exactly eager to see this through. 

But she can’t quite make sense of what his angle is here. Earlier, he had mentioned wanting to show off her alternate’s exploits. But if that were true, surely, he’d rather keep a fine lock on her, as opposed to just letting her roam freely as he is now. Ahsoka can’t figure how he thinks any of this is a good idea. If she were him, she’d just keep herself locked up until her alternate had effectively finished fucking up her world.   
“I’d hurry along if I were you”, the Son calls out, the echo of his footsteps a faint yet terrifying sound to Ahsoka’s severed lekku. “We haven’t got forever, you know.”   
_ Actually, I wouldn’t.  _ Slowly inching out of her cell, Ahsoka deduces that it’s just best to play along. She soon quickens her pace, eager to catch up to him, and soon finds herself darting up staircase after staircase. She’s traversed well over eight landings, the Force propelling her when her malnourished body grows tired, when she comes upon a floor that houses several cells full of people. Curiosity enticing her, Ahsoka explores the floor and quickly finds herself regretting the action. One contains a Lasat cradling a young child close to her chest, and another contains something that looks like it came off Mon Cala. 

And though Ahsoka knows that the Sith is well-renowned in this dimension, it still takes her by surprise to see the venom held in the eyes of the prisoners. The animosity, the hatred, the revulsion. She’s seen it before, usually by those who oppose the actions of the Jedi or those who sneer at the supposed weakness of the Togruta. But this is different. She’s never felt a vitriol of this intensity before. And more than anything, Ahsoka’s never been able to say it wasn’t warranted.

She averts her gaze, then breaks into a sprint, lekku trailing behind her as she darts around the corner and up the stairs. Exhaustion has just begun to weigh upon her when she comes upon a hangar bay, several floors up from the last prison cells. He’s ascending the ramp of a scout ship, and when he looks over his shoulder, he does so with a casualty that makes her shudder. It’s obvious he expects her to accompany him to...wherever it is he’s going.

“My patience is wearing thin”, the Son calls out as he disappears into the ship. 

It...would be a good way to garner information. Learn more about how this world operates, how far the influence of his “empire” stretches. It’s with a cautious frown that Ahsoka follows him. When she finds her way onto the ship, she finds him seated up front, with the passenger seat angled to face him.  _ Yeah, no. _ She remains standing and watches as he starts prepping the craft for flight, apprehensively impressed by the ease with which he navigates the star-ship

“Unless you want whiplash”, the Son says casually, fingers roaming with ease over the control panel. “I’d suggest you strap in.”

The sound of the console whirring under his ministrations persuades Ahsoka to do as he says, hurriedly strapping in as he cruises the ship out of the hangar and into an assured flight. Within minutes, they’ve made the jump to hyperspace, leaving the cabin silent save for the Son’s quiet humming from across the aisle. 

For a long moment, Ahsoka just sits there, eyeing him uncertainly before eventually asking, “Where are we going?”

The Son just turns on the auto-pilot, a tired sigh escaping him as he leans back against his seat. “On a field trip”, he replies, flashing her a self-satisfied grin. 

“A field trip?”, Ahsoka repeats, disbelieving. “What am I, twelve?”

The Son just snickers and angles his head to look back out at the colors rushing past them. “I’m a multi-tasker, little one. While my apprentice is completing her task in your world, I still have business to manage here.”

Ahsoka just scoffs. More comfortable now that they’re in hyperspace, she crawls out of her seat and looks about the cabin, noting the various rooms it breaks off into. If she has the chance, she’ll need to search them later, see what she can find in terms of weapons, GPS, anything that can assist her really. “And you want me to, what exactly?”, she asks, arms crossed over her chest as she turns to look back at him. “Carry on her role?”   
The Son merely shrugs and says, “Well, yes, actually”. Before she can politely tell him to fuck off, he himself stands from his seat and walks away, disappearing into one of the many rooms she’d made note of. “You may not believe in yourself, but I-”   
“Cut the bullshit”, Ahsoka sneers, annoyed beyond belief. While he’s gone, she takes a moment to observe the cabin. It looks so much different from her own. When she was still a Padawan, she tried to keep her things orderly, to adhere to the Order’s rules concerning materialism. But since she left the Order, Ahsoka’s begun to challenge that idea, let herself buy things, leave them scattered about, to give the place a sort of homey feeling. 

The Son’s cabin is bizarrely empty, to the point where she wishes she had a jacket, if, for the sole purpose of dropping it over the back of her seat. She saunters over to where a hologram-portrait of her alternate self is framed on the wall, though, and takes a moment to just stare at it. As always, it’s unnerving to see her alternate, but it’s even worse to see her immortalized. “You make her believe you care about her”, Ahsoka muses as she brushes a thumb over the hologram’s projector. “You make her believe you know what’s best for her. Is that how you convince her to do your bidding?”

“Among other methods. Togrutas, as I’m coming to find, have a very low tolerance to pain. I guess you could be considered soft predators.”

“I am not soft”, Ahsoka growls and whips her head to confront him, only to fall silent at the sound of a handheld comm unit beeping. She raises an eye marking as the Son peels himself from the shadows of the walls to answer it, then asks, “Who’s that?”

“A friend”, the Son muses, lips thinning out in concentration as he accepts the call. The image of a cloaked figure comes onto the screen, and Ahsoka hums, curious as she leans forward for a better look.

“How’s the brat?”, a bass voice calls out, and Ahsoka snears, watching as the person in question reveals themself to be Hondo Ohnaka, seated in a lounge chair with a hookah pipe in his hand. 

“I don’t know why I’m surprised”, Ahsoka scoffs, rolling her eyes as she drops back into her seat. “He’s gonna stab you in the back the first chance you get, you know.”

“Quite the mouth on this one”, Hondo retorts with a drunken smile. Ahsoka doesn’t recognize the strange urge to bow her head to him, but she ignores it, her chin high as she meets his stare. “Bold, too.”   
“I plan to break her of it soon”, the Son chuckles as he folds his hands in front of him. 

“I’m just surprised you actually succeeded”, Hondo muses as he tends to something off-screen, his hologram flickering as he does so. “Your apprentice must be having a gall making a mess of things in a new sandbox.”

“Oh, she is”, the Son chuckles, to which Ahsoka whips her head in his direction and glares.

“The shipment’s in”, Hondo says, interrupting whatever conversation might’ve come between them. “If you want your machine intact, I suggest you hurry along. This planet is a wasteland, as you likely already know.”   
Ahsoka has a feeling that’s pointed at her but otherwise remains quiet for the remainder of the conversation. One Hondo’s signed off, she proclaims, “So Hondo knows?”   
“He’s a good friend of mine”, the Son simply replies, lifting his hand to the upper console. He flicks several switches, dropping them from hyperspace until they’ve come upon a planet composed of red swirls and jagged rocks. It looks like something out of a nightmare, which makes sense why the Son would choose it as his rendezvous. “It was by his connections that I was able to procure the means to make any of this possible.”

Ahsoka would be surprised by that, but after many years of going up against and occasionally working alongside him, she’s learned to not be. Incompetence may plague him like no other, but he’s also got dumb luck like no one she’s ever seen. That and this is a different Hondo. If she can be a Sith and the Son can be alive, then she supposes Hondo could be anything. “Does anyone else know?”, Ahsoka asks, curious as to how his network of criminals operates.

“He and he alone”, he responds, and Ahsoka has no sense of if he’s lying. “It wouldn’t do well for my empire if it was common knowledge that my apprentice wasn’t feeling her best self.”

Okay. She can use that to her advantage, as a sort of bargaining chip. The Son’s cooperation for her silence. Of course, it could also be used against her. If she has another run-in like she had with Shaak Ti, it could turn into a disaster, and it’s likely the Son has already realized this.

In short, Ahsoka’s gonna have to be careful. Very, very careful. 

The Son docks with the grace of an Endor blue butterfly landing upon a flower, an act which, to Ahsoka’s annoyance, causes admiration to bubble in her chest. She descends the ramp and quickly finds herself floored, her senses reeling under the feel of freedom for the first time in weeks.

“So this is the girl?”, Hondo proclaims as he approaches the two, arriving via a dusty hoverboard. He scoops it up, then winks at the Son and says, “A hundred credits and it’s yours”.

“He can fly, jackass”, Ahsoka mutters and crosses her arms over her chest as she stares him down. 

“Very spirited”, Hondo muses, kicking the hoverboard aside before he guides them down the landing platform. “I’m surprised you let her out. She could throw your entire empire to shambles if she wanted, and something tells me she does.”

As they’re walking through the docking platform, she draws the attention of several people, all of which either quickly run away or bow to her feet. It’s...unnerving how pleasing the sight is. “So what kinda machine are we talking about?”, she asks, eager for a change in conversation. 

“One which you should be proud of”, Hondo says with a low cackle. “After all, it was your idea.”

“That wasn’t me”, Ahsoka’s quick to refute, only to be cut short by the sound of hover-cruiser backfiring. She casts a bitter glare in their direction, annoyed when the person in question scrambles away.

“But it was you”, the Son insists as he gives her shoulder a brief pat, a skin-piercing coldness lingering once his hand has gone. “Another version of you albeit, but it was you.”

When they come upon the room, there’s a large structure sitting under a tarp. She watches as the Son begins his approach, peeking underneath the tarp before reemerging moments later with a Cheshire-like grin upon his face. 

_ I got a bad feeling about this _ , Ahsoka thinks glumly as the Son gestures for her to join him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to comment and kudos. I am really appreciating the feedback so far, it really means the world that people actually care about this story lol. I'll probably have the next chapter up by next week. 'Til then, I'd love to hear your thoughts🤗🤗🤗. Bye!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I mentioned how much I love writing Sithsoka? I love Ahsoka in general, but Sithsoka is just so fucking chaotic and messy, it's really fun.

Contrary to popular belief, Ahsoka is not illiterate. 

It’s a rumor largely perpetuated by the Son, eager to give his enemies a false sense of security in the belief that his apprentice is inept in any form. In actuality, the Son’s devoted a rather extensive campaign into her education. Ahsoka, feral apprentice to the most feared being in the galaxy, possesses as many brains as she does brawn, and that’s saying a lot. If it didn’t go against her master’s plans, she’d take immense delight in proving her intellectual prowess just before disemboweling those who sneer at the prospect that she can read.

She gets into a fight with Lorenz, a Padawan-turned-Knight that seems to have a bone to pick with her alternate. It’s no matter. Ahsoka has no qualms with picking bones, any more than she does with breaking them. Because Ahsoka may not be illiterate like this asshole seems to think but that doesn’t exactly mean she’s a patient woman either. After two weeks spent pouring through the history books in the library, she’s more than ready for a brawl. 

You could say she’s gotten a little restless. And when Ahsoka gets restless, she gets dangerous. Her master seems to realize this, intruding upon the time required to properly dominate Lorenz to snatch her from her body and pull her into her subconsciousness. Ahsoka presses down the snarl threatening to rise in her chest, but there’s nothing stopping the elongating of her teeth as she turns to hesitantly look him in the eye.

“Pray tell”, the Son begins, his voice reminiscent of creatures that lurk in the dark, his eyes a bright red like they only are when he’s royally pissed. “Just what in the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I was thinking I could do something to pass the time”, Ahsoka spits out, unable to keep her cool, anger lashing out like her master’s whip. She crosses her arms over her chest, trying and failing to keep her breathing. “I’m  _ aggravated _ . There’s nothing to do in the Temple but read and pick fights with people. And I can’t just leave because Skywalker’s supposed to be due back soon.” 

Kenobi had said Skywalker would be back within two to three weeks, with three being the latest. She’d been sorely hoping it would be the earliest, but that’s obviously not the case. 

Rubbing her index fingers into her temples, Ahsoka lets out a struggling sigh and asks, “What if something’s happened to him?” She doesn’t even want to begin to consider that idea. For them to’ve come along this way, for her to’ve wasted all this time and energy pretending to be so  _ nice _ . She can’t bear the thought of it. She really can’t. Because if that’s really what happened, breaking Lorenz’s bones will be the least of the Order’s worries.   
“We would know if something happened to him”, the Son replies evenly, approaching her slowly, as he often does when she gets like this. It doesn’t ease Ahsoka’s nerves in the slightest, and he seems to realize this because his next words are far more stern, assertive. “Calm yourself”, he begins, his tone commanding, at the very least, an attempt from Ahsoka. Sensing her struggle, he then adds, “You’ll draw attention to yourself if you aren’t careful. That boy is a star pupil amongst the Jedi. What will people think, the disgraced deserter returning and defacing the poster child of a proper up and coming Jedi Master?”

“How much longer is this going to last?”, Ahsoka growls, itching the bite out of her voice at the harsh glare she receives. “Skywalker is one of the most famous assholes in the galaxy. He has enemies from within the Order itself. If someone was trying to kill him, I’d still be sitting on my ass, entertaining glorified younglings with superiority complexes, and never even know it!” The rest of her rant is cut short by the Son suddenly lifting a hand, a sliver of shadow springing from his hand to strike her across the cheek. The force of the blow sends Ahsoka sprawling to the ground, and she has just enough sense to keep her eyes lowered, lest she anger him again.

“I suppose I shouldn’t blame you”, the Son muses as he kneels in front of her. He forcefully grabs her by the chin to make her look at her, an act which strains against Ahsoka’s need to bow her head to him. Humming, the Son cocks his head to the side and just watches her before murmuring, “Your alternate isn’t exactly known for her respect for authority. With that in mind, I’ll let this...streak of yours be. But you really must get a hold of that temper.” His red eyes go narrowed before his body dissolves into a liquid shadow, drenching the room in darkness. It takes everything in Ahsoka’s power not to shudder, especially at the feel of his cold presence approaching her from behind. “You knew going into this that it’d require patience”, the Son chides lightly.

“I didn’t think the patience would be waiting for him to show up”, Ahsoka answers lowly, keeping her eyes forward, at the empty abyss surrounding her. “I thought it’d be for convincing him to turn.”

“Regardless.” Smoothly, like the shadow he is, the Son spirals until all his shadows have become a swirling column, a tornado from the realm of nightmares. When at last he’s settled, he’s assumed his humanoid-form. Funny, how this form strikes more fear into her than any other. “You made a commitment”, the Son reminds her, eyeing her pointedly. “You’re not backing out. Are you?”

Whatever fire was left in Ahsoka, it simmers until there’s but a single flame that remains. Now free to do as she pleases, Ahsoka lowers her eyes once more and says, “No, master”.

“I thought not.” He slithers along, reappearing several feet ahead in his bat form. “You’ll continue in your mission,  _ patiently _ at that. You don’t want to blow your cover.”   
Ahsoka lets out a breath, then murmurs, “Of course not, master” and quickly finds herself dismissed, waking up to the feeling of several arms holding her back from lunging at the smug-looking Lorenz. 

“Commander Tano”, one of the men breathes, eyes wide as Ahsoka suddenly goes limp in his arms. Fives, if she’s not mistaken. 

Ahsoka just droops, teeth gritted as she pulls her feet back underneath her. She can see the Clones, the Jedi, eyeing her wearily, like she could lash out again at any moment. For fuck’s sake, she really is blowing it here, isn’t she? “You’ll have to forgive me”, Ahsoka chokes out, repulsion settling deep in her stomach as she meets Lorenz’s eye. “Apologies if I’ve caused you any harm or anyone distress.” An awkward, uncertain silence lingers over the group before Ahsoka bids them goodbye and stomps off in the opposite direction. 

She winds her way through the Temple and finds herself growing more and more agitated as she does so. Everywhere she goes, she gets kind smiles or respectful salutes. She’s more used to quivering bowing and eyes flooded with fear. It’s nothing like what she wants. And with her last kill being well over two weeks ago and her last fight ending well before it’s even begun, well, restless would be putting it mildly.

“Ahsoka”, a voice calls out, and Ahsoka comes to an abrupt pause and snarls, “What?”, whipping her head around in search of the voice.

It’s Rex. He doesn’t look too impressed by her attitude, but he doesn’t look unnerved either. If anything, that just frustrates her more. She can’t help but notice that his armor is recently marked, then turns to Cody and his men and notes it as well. Envy unfurls through her, and it takes everything in Ahsoka to keep it pressed flush against herself, the Force as suffocating as it is comforting.

“Are you all right?”, Rex asks suddenly, voice rich with such concern, she could snatch it right out of his throat.

“Obviously”, Ahsoka hisses, tucking her hands into her armpits to keep them from twitching. “Why do you ask?”

“You just seem a little…” He flounders before settling upon, “A little high-strung lately”.

_ They must’ve not heard yet _ , Ahsoka thinks as she fantasizes about the various ways in which she could murder them and safely dispose of their bodies. When that satiates her, if a little, Ahsoka lets out a sigh, rubs the bridge of her nose, and murmurs, “I just need some sleep”. And a few more lives to claim as her own but she isn’t naive as to believe that’ll come nearly as easily.

Ahsoka’s in the midst of immersing herself in the memory of decapitating several senators at a political rally when something Cody says catches her attention. Eye markings raised, Ahsoka perks up, averts her gaze from staring at a vague point down the hall to the Commander. She perks up, an apprehensive smile tugging at her lips as she asks, “Did you say something about drinks?”   
The two men eye her oddly before Cody replies, “...did you wanna come along?”   
“Yes”, Ahsoka proclaims with an easygoing smile. It won’t be anything like killing someone, but it’ll do until opportunity next presents itself. At the ensuing silence, she wavers, then, still smiling, asks, “Is that so strange?”   
Rex just lets out a confused laugh and says, “Well, yes, seeing as Jedi don’t drink recreationally”.

“Well, I’m in a recreational mood”, Ahsoka says, not even trying to hide her fangs. “And I’m not exactly a Jedi anymore, am I?” When she receives no rebuttal, she hums, then skips after the rest of the group. “Come on”, she calls out over her shoulder. “No time to waste.”

They wind up at a tavern, ironically, not all that far from the Temple, and Ahsoka winds up several Corellian Whiskeys. To her relief, her alternate’s body has a higher tolerance than she would’ve assumed. She drinks beyond it, more than she normally would, to the point where a pleasant, happy cloud settles over her. It doesn’t escape her that she’s garnering some concerned, bordering on alarmed looks from her companions, but she couldn’t care less. For the first time in weeks, she feels content and not in the sense of a desperate bloodrage or the smug joy that succeeds victory. She just feels happy, no strings attached, like she’s floating far beyond the atmosphere, just drifting amongst the cosmos. It’s a feeling she could get used to. As apprentice to the Overlord of the Galaxy, of course, that’s not exactly possible, but it’s still nice to dream. 

“Ahsoka Tano.”   
Eyelids fluttering, Ahsoka drunkenly angles her head in the direction of the voice, eyeing the person up and down before brazenly asking, “Do I know you?”

“Lorenz”, the person says, and Ahsoka peels her eyes open further and notes, yep, that’s-that’s the guy. “You tried to kill me, like, an hour ago.” 

Words interspersed with hiccups, Ahsoka giggles, props her chin up with her hand, and says, “You’ll have to excuse me. I’ve, uh, I’ve tried to kill so many people, the faces kinda start to blur after a while.” The whiskey probably isn’t helping matters either, but Ahsoka doesn’t say that outloud.

Lorenz just snorts, arms crossed over his chest as he muses, “Just when I thought you couldn’t get any lower”.

“Listen, kid”, Rex interjects, sitting aside his own glass as he glares at the younger man. Ahsoka never hears what he has to say, though, because it’s then that she uses the Force to grab his glass from him and hurtle it towards Lorenz. And oh, how she delights in the sounds of his screams, grinning like she’s seated front-row seats to Gladiator Night on Lothal, blood pumping anxiously through her veins like she’s just taken the killing bite to her prey.

“All right”, Rex says, fingers latching around her wrist like a steel-trap before he drags her away. Ahsoka just lets him, personally committing the sight of Lorenz’s bleeding face to memory just before the doors to the tavern slam shut behind her. Rex brushes past a Mikkian couple, then comes to a pause, watching Ahsoka closely as he lets go of her wrist, as if he’s afraid she’d run off. “What’s wrong with you?”, Rex says after a beat of silence, wincing as a protocol droid darts out of the tavern.

“Well, I’m drunk, for one”, Ahsoka hiccups, prompting Rex to narrow his eyes and say, “You weren’t drunk earlier when you tried to rip his throat out with your teeth. And you weren’t drunk last week when you nearly ripped Echo’s head off for cutting in front of you for your morning”. Ahsoka just hums, her blood still pleasantly warm with whiskey as she tilts her head up. When she looks up, she sees speeders and freighters cruising along pleasantly, as if they haven’t a care in the world. What Ahsoka wouldn’t give to possess such freedom, to just exist, forever, in the flow of traffic, merely awaiting directions, as opposed to the arrival of someone who, for all she knows, could be dead. Not to mention someone who’ll take her title as apprentice to the Son, the one thing she’s truly been able to claim as her own in her entire life. 

“...it’s like you’re a whole new person”, Rex is saying, and Ahsoka just rolls her eyes. Although, in her drunken stupor, it’s probably not as impressive as it should be.

“I was a child before”, Ahsoka slurs and gives a mock-salute that, oddly enough, draws a disgusted grimace from her companion. Sobering slightly, she pushes herself off the wall, shrugs, and stutters, “I’m-I’m all grown up. It’s...realllllllly nothing to-to it.”

“Really?”, Rex deadpans, like he doesn’t believe a word of what she’s just said. Ahsoka supposes it’s testament to his bond with her alternate that he doesn’t just believe she’s become an asshole in their time apart. It’s...admirable, actually.

Envy, thick and ugly, replaces the happiness coursing smoothly through Ahsoka’s blood. At the sound of approaching sirens, that envy is just as quickly replaced with envy. “Really”, Ahsoka concurs and stumbles as she breaks into a drunken sprint. She doesn’t get more than a few yards away before her feet slip underneath her, bringing her down on the pavement headfirst and immediately rendering her unconscious. 

All things considered, probably not one of her more glamorous moments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I'd love to hear how y'all are feeling so leave a comment or a kudos🤗🤗🤗. See y'all next week!  
> (and if anyone's wondering, I like to think one main distinction between the two sokas is that sithsoka's smarter while desertersoka's less impulsive)


	5. Chapter 5

The commotion that rises Ahsoka from her sleep is loud enough to immediately put her on alert. In the moment that it’s taken her to scramble off the moldy couch she’d fallen asleep on, the racket had only grown louder, now accompanied by the distinct sound of shouting. Her fangs bared, Ahsoka takes one hesitant step forward in the darkness, scanning her environment as she does so. It takes but a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the darkness surrounding her, and it’s in those seconds that “commotion” has cleared enough for her to place it as a rapidly-escalating argument. A low growl nestled deep in her chest, Ahsoka keeps her steps quiet as she inches along and peeks around the corner.

“...well-renowned, fabulous Hondo Ohnaka, does not deal in the slavetrade!”, Hondo’s saying, to which Ahsoka merely raises an eye marking.

The person in front of him, an orange Twi’lek woman with blue pigmentation, snatches him by the collar and hisses, “And why didn’t you fucking say that before I made the flight over?”

“My assistant was supposed to inform you”, Hondo merely defends, quickly backhanding the Twi’lek and sending her sprawling several paces back. He then snorts, giving a vague shrug of a gesture as he mutters, “Unfortunately, he’s turning out to be kind of...useless, as you say”.

The Twi'lek lets out a hiss, then pulls a dagger out from her boot. It’s with vague disinterest that Ahsoka looks away from the fight. If she hadn’t just awoken, she might’ve questioned why she was able to view said fight with so little care. As it stands, she writes it off as her disappointment and disgust in the Twi’lek. Ahsoka doesn’t care much for slavers at the best of times, but when the slaver in question is a Twi’lek...Perhaps it isn’t fair for her to hold a member of the Head Tails to greater expectations solely because of their shared histories, but she can’t help it. The Twi’lek’s made her bed, and Ahsoka will do nothing to help make it one of comfort. 

In any case, she finds her eyes flitting to where the Son is sat on another couch, a glass of wine in his hands as he watches the altercation, amusement bright in his eyes. She darts past the room without further word, continuing on as the Force surrounding her throbs with a weak life force. 

Ahsoka slows her footsteps, focusing on the room up ahead, where the Force seems to shimmer like a mirage. She inches along and marvels at how much greater her night-vision is in this body.  _ Makes sense _ , Ahsoka thinks as she expertly navigates the darkened hall. With the Sith’s hearing impaired, she’d have to rely on her other senses, and it’s definitely making a difference. It’s admirable, really. Togrutan night vision is widely heralded, second only to their echolocation. If the Sith hadn’t personally seen to fucking this universe into a black hole, there’s no telling the kind of person she could’ve been.

_ Obviously _ , Ahsoka muses with a snort as she gently closes the room’s door behind her.  _ She would’ve been me. _ She lingers on that thought for a moment, a faint chill settling over her as she does so. She’s just begun to consider how their paths could’ve verged so drastically when a frightened voice suddenly calls out, “Hello?”

Startled, Ahsoka springs several feet into the air, collecting herself only once her eyes have landed upon its source. The relief, however, is short-lived when she really gets a good look at the source. They’re sitting in a cage, their body pressed tight against the bars, as far away from the perceived threat as possible. Ahsoka goes to approach her, to confront her, only to falter as she realizes, in this body, she’d be about as comforting as an electric-shock collar. 

So she remains where she is, careful to keep her voice calm, peaceful, as she drops to her knees and whispers, “...Riyo?”

Riyo’s eyes just furrow in distrust as she returns, “Lady Tano”, a violent shudder passing through Ahsoka as she does so. Not all that long ago, she recalls someone else calling her by that name. But whereas once it had brought her annoyance, it now brings her a nauseating concoction of debilitating shame and suffocating pride. 

“What are you doing here?”, Riyo asks then, drawing her from her tumultuous thoughts. 

Ahsoka’s quiet for a long minute before she registers the sound of glass being broken. It’s only a matter of time before the Son realizes she’s awakened, if he hasn’t already. And intrigued as she is by whatever machine he and Hondo had managed to scrape together, Ahsoka needs to get away from here, put some distance between them so she can figure out some sort of plan. She licks her lips, breathes in deep, then says, “I’m leaving”, Ahsoka says. Something in Riyo’s unimpressed glare burrows deep into her stomach, but she ignores it and simply adds, “Come with me”.

“...Why? So you can torture me?”, Riyo pants out, pressing closer against the back of her cage. It breaks Ahsoka’s heart, to know that she’s done something so horrid as to render the thought of slavery as preferable to being in her company.

“I know you probably don’t have any reason to believe me.” Ahsoka bends the Force around the bars of Riyo’s cage. To her surprise, and quiet embarrassment, the bars give roughly, with the care and attention that she possessed as a youngling. “But I’m not exactly myself right now.”She sets the mangled piece of metal aside and takes several steps back, giving her friend a wide berth. 

Once Riyo’s arisen, hesitantly overlooking the room, she shakes her head and whispers, “Is that supposed to mean something?” Before Ahsoka can offer a response, the commotion down the hall grows louder. Ahsoka bites her lip, then hisses, “Would you rather take your chances with me or with them?”

It probably shouldn't surprise her that Riyo actually takes a moment, as if she’s considering it, but it does. Not for the first time, Ahsoka wonders about the horrors her alternate got up to in this universe. “I’m not leaving you here”, Ahsoka says at last, and something about that seems to spur Riyo into action because she nods, then follows when Ahsoka slithers out of the room. In the back of her mind, a voice muses on Riyo’s naivety and how easy it’d be to break her if given the chance. Ahsoka ignores it, teeth gritted, hands clenched into fists, and continues silently roaming the halls. 

It doesn’t take much to find a ship, what with this being a popular docking rendezvous and all. The real trouble is getting it off the ground and offworld without drawing any attention. 

“Why are you helping me?”, Riyo asks as Ahsoka hurriedly bounds up the ramp of a rusty Eta-class shuttle, quickly and quietly readying the shuttle for inter-planetary travel. “You’re  _ the _ apprentice to the Dark Lord himself.”   
“Force, that’s not actually what he calls himself is it?”, Ahsoka grumbles, pausing in her ministrations at the sound of approaching feet. She gently grabs Riyo by the shoulder and pushes her down, then waits as two armourless Zygerrians pass through, expressions pinched as they look over a freighter starship.

“You must have quite the marketing campaign”, Riyo whispers once Ahsoka’s given her the all-clear. “Because you aren’t anything like the rumors say.”

“And you aren’t anything like the Riyo I know”, Ahsoka returns, shuddering as the thought of claiming Riyo as her own apprentice very  _ stubbornly _ roots itself in her brain. She forces her attention on searching for a power key-card to the shuttle and, as a treat, allows herself to ponder about her friend. She doesn’t even want to know what’s happened to’ve caused this Riyo to be so much...colder, bolder. But she understands it. She knows how the harsh realities of life can cause even the brightest light to go dim. 

“You say that as if you know me”, Riyo muses, eyeing Ahsoka with a different eye than she had earlier.

“Hey!”, one of the Zygerrians calls out, and a mewl slips free of Ahsoka before she jumps up from her hiding spot. Riyo watches her, distraught, and she bites out, “Follow my lead” as the Zygerrians approach them. 

“Your wretchedness”, one Zygerrian says, saluting Ahsoka briefly as she looks her up and down. Ahsoka just barely refrains from crossing her arms over her chest. “What...what are you doing here?”

In the day she’s spent upon this platform, Ahsoka’s learned more about her alternate than she has in the past two weeks she’s spent in her body. And one thing she’s quickly coming to realise is that the Son is the one that’s pulling the strings, the one that carries the true weight of their empire. And it’s clear she’s not the only one that’s realized it. 

“This, er, slave was attempting to escape”, Ahsoka says, conjuring a threatening voice with surprisingly little effort. “I was merely...returning her.”

“Really?”, the other Zygerrian asks, his eyebrows raised in question, and Ahsoka knows she’s misstepped somewhere. He then turns to Riyo and drawls, “I wasn’t aware of your mechanical experience. Senator”.

“I...was desperate”, Riyo explains, eyes flicking to Ahsoka’s albeit briefly. “I didn’t get very far.”   
“I can see that”, the Zygerrian says, then lifts his commlink to his mouth. “I’m reporting this.”

_ Idiots _ , Ahsoka thinks with a hiss as she leaps into the air, spiral-kicking the men to the floor before propelling them backwards and into what Ahsoka can only deduce is a prison hold in the ground. At their distraught faces, she then persuades them into a deep slumber, sparing them no more than a moments glance before lifting the the Zygerrian’s commlink into her hand. At its beeping light, Ahsoka snarls, tosses it to the ground, then rushes towards the ship, calling over her shoulder, “Come on, they’re onto us!”

They’ve settled into their seats, Riyo murmuring a calming incantation that Ahsoka faintly remembers from their childhood as Ahsoka resumes the preparations for flight, when the hold gets flooded with soldiers. “Lady Tano!”, one of the soldiers yells just as the Son comes casually strolling into the room. Ahsoka isn’t sure if she prefers that or him barreling angrily after her.

Whatever the case, she quickly guides the shuttle off the ground, narrowly avoiding the positioned machine-guns before making the jump to hyperspace. She doesn’t breathe easy until the world’s long since become a blur of colors around her. 

Likewise, Riyo waits until they’ve settled within the uncertainty of broken lightspeed before asking, “Are you going to tell me what that was all about?”

Hands shaking, Ahsoka lets go of the wheel, then wipes a hand over her face and lets out a jagged breath. “I’m not...I’m not Ahsoka.” At the befuddled look she gets, she adds, “I mean, I am, I just...I’m not the Ahsoka from this universe”.

She worries that Riyo won’t believe her. Worries that the first person to truly trust her will write her off as full of shit, worries that she’s ruined the first good thing to come out of this whole shitshow. But Riyo just...just gives her a tentative smile. Her skin is gaunt, her once vibrant, healthy blue now tinted grey with malnutrition and illness, and her hands can’t seem to stay steady for anything. But for all that, Ahsoka looks at her and feels rejuvenated, like for the first time in weeks, she’s in good hands. Ahsoka may be the strong one amongst them, but in that moment, Riyo’s smile could keep her upright for lunar cycles. 

“I don’t know what that means”, Riyo says as she rests her cheek against her knees. “But you...do seem different from all the reports”. She snorts, laughing to herself as she mumbles, “And there are plenty of them”. She rubs a knuckle against the brand against her neck, then lets out a sigh, and says, “Do you have any idea what you’re doing?”   
“Not really”, Ahsoka admits sheepishly. 

“Well, that’s reassuring.” She sits up straighter, then turns to look out the vast windows of space stretching before her. “I suppose at the very least, this’ll give us time to get to know each other.”

: : :

Back oneworld, the Son and Hondo stare up into, watching where the raggedy shuttle had jetting off into hyperspace.

“Are you really just going to let her get away?”, Hondo questions, seeming more annoyed than truly curious as he presses an ice pack to his busted lip.    
The Son just smiles, facial markings contorting with amusement as he hums lowly to himself. “Let her have her fun. I’ll get her back. In time.”

All good things come to those that wait. And if nothing else, the Son is a man of great patience. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I was kinda getting in a weird spot with desertersoka's chapters and decided to just yeet her into a bit of action for a bit lol. Her next chapter'll see her learning more about this universe, and it's gonna be a doozy. On the same note, sithsoka's next chapter's gonna explore more of her backstory as well as really set a few things in motion. Needless to say, a lot of big stuff's gonna be happening, and it's because of that I'm gonna combine the next two before we go back to onesoka a chapter 🤗🤗🤗.  
> As always, I'd love to hear how y'all are feeling so feel free to leave a comment or some kudos because an angel gets its wings you do 😎😎😎. See y'all next week and thanks for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are trigger warnings in the endnotes. Tread lightly cuz they kinda spoilery but always be careful 😔😔😔, sometimes it's worth the spoiler.  
> Also lol, don't hate me, but I'm gonna stick with the one pov a chapter. I know I promised this one would be a "special" and have two, but two pov a chapter really wears me out, and when I'm wore out, I kinda start half-assing shit. So yeah, we gonna stick with the one soka a chapter. I hope y'all like it.

Much of Ahsoka’s early childhood is a blur. Chalk it up to infantile memory or a lackluster life but most of it’s all fleeting flashes of an existence in constant turmoil. When they come to her in the middle of the night, drifting in and out like convorees with the changing seasons. It’s only now, after years of sifting through it all, that she’s pieced together the portrait of two neighboring villages on the brink of war with one another. 

Food was scarce. And with their numbers dwindling, all either fighting the war effort or fighting to keep the village afloat, Ahsoka was more often than not left alone. So yeah. Most of it’s pretty vague, with malnutrition probably a contributing factor to it.

But Ahsoka remembers the day the Son found her unlike any other.

It’d been quite a while since she’d last seen her grandparents, and she was in unfamiliar territory. She’d recently killed an Akul and was searching for her family, starving and eager to show them her victory over the mighty beast. But as the days droned on, Ahsoka found herself increasingly alone, and the prospect of surviving long enough to bask in her success was quickly becoming a fantasy. 

And then he came. Like a shadow splitting from the darkness, descending upon her as a massive tidal wave of black and white and red. Initially, Ahsoka had hesitated, hidden in a ravine, content to wait him out. 

But the man was patient, waiting for her to emerge and luring her closer with the fresh kill of a thimiar. Even then, Ahsoka hadn’t cared for the taste, much less its effect on her. But she was starving, and so she lunged at it, tiny canines bared as she revealed herself to the man in question.

“Aggressive little one, aren’t you?”, the man remarked before carelessly tossing the rodent at her feet. As Ahsoka ate, devouring her first kill in days, he mused, “Where is your family?”

Ahsoka hadn’t answered, too consumed with the need to eat.

“Perhaps they’ve abandoned you.” At that, Ahsoka looked up, insulted by the very question of her family’s loyalty, but the man just chuckled, undeterred by her reaction. “This sector of the planet has been consumed with war. I’m surprised you survived...You must be a strong one”. He extended a hand, and Ahsoka was hesitant. She didn’t know him the way she does now, hadn’t yet learned that the only loyalty that mattered was his own. For all intents and purposes, this was a stranger, and she’d long been warned of strangers. Particularly those who would use her “gifts” for their own agendas, their own battles, corrupt and twist her into yet another cog in the machine of war and conquest. Families all over Shili instilled into their children what befell those lured away by the people with the pull, and Ahsoka’s family was no different.

But Ahsoka’s family was...gone. Gone for a long time, longer than she could almost remember. And if their village really was as decimated as he claimed...

“I’ll take care of you”, the man promised as he reached into his cloak to pull out another thimiar. 

And so she went with him. And hell if it hasn’t been a blast. Apprentice to the Dark Lord, that’s nothing to be sheepish about. Sure, there were times where it was less than stellar-

Losing his respect after that incident on Ilum comes to mind; giving him a piece of her lekku had made him eye her oddly, but big picture concerned, it was worth it. It’s been years since, and he hasn’t nearly so blatantly questioned her undying loyalty to he and he alone.

-but for the most part, it’s all been great! In a little under twenty years, she’s finally come to earn the title of “apprentice”. There is, of course, presence of Skywalker, which undeniably..complicates things, and she’d be lying if she said she doesn’t envy him, knowing that he’s essentially being handed what she struggled her whole life to only  _ just _ be able to claim, and even then, still be seen as a pet by the galaxy at large, but it’s fine, it’s fine. She’s fine. Really. 

“Ahsoka”, Shaak Ti says suddenly, prompting Ahsoka to look up from where she’d been staring blankly at the mat underneath her. The elder Togruta just watches her, eye markings arched with heavy scrutiny, before she asks, “Are you ready to go again?”

Ahsoka holds out a hand, strangling the Force into picking up her staff. It bends to her whim, her staff rising stiffly before lodging itself in the palm of her hand. She shakes out her ankles, rolls her neck, and loosens her muscles, desperate to quell the adrenaline rising in her. Suffice it to say, it’s not working. All the same, Ahsoka holds her head high, levels her breathing, and looks Shaak Ti in the eye as she calmly states, “I’m always ready” just before her opponent makes a controlled lunge at her. 

After the disaster at the tavern, the Jedi have been keeping a close eye on her. Shaak Ti in particular. It unnerves Ahsoka far more than any of the others have. Fighting amongst her own has always been a great pleasure, but that usually also entails her gnawing their head off at some point, and somehow, she doubts the Order would appreciate that.

That and...if this Shaak Ti is anything like her own, it wouldn’t be unlike conquering an akul by her lonesome, malnourished, and three years old. 

So yeah. It wouldn’t be worth it. But hell if it isn’t nice to imagine it. She’d hang the woman’s headtails from her belt and gladly prance through the Temple, delighted by the horror upon her “comrades’” faces.

Well, most of them anyway. That Rex fellow is an...aggravating exception, but it’s nothing truly bothersome. Just a relic of the mind that formerly inhabited this body. When the time comes, she’d relish in her bloodshed. And Commander Rex’s blood will be the first to hiss upon the blade of her sabre.

“Your mind is elsewhere”, Shaak Ti proclaims as she swipes her staff at Ahsoka’s legs. Ahsoka is quick to leap back to her feet, but an indignant growl still manages to claw its way from her throat. To her annoyance, this only seems to encourage Shaak Ti because she loosens her stance and lowers her staff. “Should we postpone our lesson?”

“This is not a lesson”, Ahsoka snaps as she charges towards her. “And I’m fine.” Bearing heavily upon the Force, she propels herself into the air and brings her staff down hard enough on her opponent’s that cracks appear. She brandishes a wicked smile, ready to proclaim victory when she looks up and finds Shaak Ti standing undisturbed, without so much as a sweat broken.

“I know it’s been a while.” Shaak Ti lands a blow to Ahsoka’s stomach, an act which sets her back several before she regains her footing. “But I’m pretty sure that’s not true.”

“Don’t presume to know me”, Ahsoka simply says, anger that she doesn’t recognize eager to launch into a long tirade about just how much she doesn’t know her. As it stands, she just tosses her staff aside, not caring to properly place it back amongst the rack, and makes her way towards where she’d placed her water bottle earlier. 

_ This is useless _ , Ahsoka thinks as she angrily pries her cap free of its bottle and tosses it over her shoulder. She came here to burn off some energy. So far, all she’s managed to do is make a fool of herself in front of a woman she’s already bested and worsened an already foul mood.

“You know we’re all happy to have you back”, Shaak Ti begins, and Ahsoka just rolls her eyes, not even bothering to hide her scoff. This may not be her universe, but it doesn’t take much to realize “comrade” exists more in the name to the Order. 

“You must understand our concern”, Shaak Ti’s saying, as if Ahsoka actually gives a shit about their concerns. You’re very...different from the last we saw you.”

“Well, that’s what happens when the bird leaves the nest”, Ahsoka grumbles. She takes a sip of her water, allowing herself a moment to relish in its coolness as she looks out the window before her. On the platform below, there’s a group of younglings going through some arbitrary training exercise or another. It’s exceedingly simple, nothing like the exercises she had as a child. Envy, once more, courses through her. It’s easy to recognize the betrayal her alternate faced at the hands of her so-called allies. If she were her, Ahsoka doubts she would’ve left so quietly, without causing a lot of noise and even more carnage. But that doesn’t stop her from considering her childhood and remorsing for how simple and carefree it must’ve been. “I think I’m done for the day”, Ahsoka says, her tone clipped, every fiber in her being trembling under the facade of control. 

Shaak Ti frowns and calls, “Ahsoka”, but she’s already stomped off. 

Ahsoka is no stranger to bad days. As a matter of fact, most days are bad days to her, offset only by the occasional release in mowing down a large crowd of people or hunting down some great beast. But this day takes the cake. Because usually when she’s having a bad day, her master indulges her, sending her people to murder, property to destroy, something,  _ anything _ to redirect her anger. But in this world, she has to wear a facade, and her patience is wearing thin. 

“Ahsoka.”

Teeth gritted, Ahsoka flits her gaze to the side, to where Plo Koon has fallen into step beside her. It takes everything in her power not to toss him out of the nearest window and call this whole thing quits, the plan be damned. “Master Plo”, she greets, mustering what she can only imagine is a rather threatening grimace of a smile in his direction. 

“You were due for a meditation session earlier”, he informs her, his steady staccato and general air of calm enticing the flames of the rage slowly but surely filling her bloodstream. 

“I’m not really the meditating type, as you’re well aware.” She and her alternate may be two polar opposites, but they’re the opposites of the same coin. And this body can handle about as much meditation as her actual one. 

“You seem-”

“I’m fine”, Ahsoka hisses, then breaks into a sprint before he can say much more, her lekku flushing a dark blue as she darts down the hall. 

There’s a certain audacity to be seen in her comrades’ words. To so easily turn their backs on her, then to presume to care about her well-being, to presume to know anything about her after years of being apart and even more of insisting she suppress what’s only in her nature. It’s baffling, aggravating, really. 

That and it’s odd to even fathom someone caring about her in this extreme. The furthest the Son’s ever cared about her is giving her people to kill and things to hunt. Any concern anyone displays is merely a front, and Ahsoka is not one to be fooled so easily. 

When she rounds a corner and finds herself face to face with Rex, Ahsoka just barely refrains from gnawing her own arm off because if she hadn’t, she might’ve taken a chunk of his face off. He doesn’t have the opportunity to even open his mouth before she hisses, “Don’t. Okay, just don’t. Whatever it is you have to say, I don’t wanna hear it. Just,  _ please _ , fuck off”.

Rex doesn’t cower under her intensity, just watches her, affording her the same deference as he would a spukama kitten. “I was just gonna ask if you wanted to get something to eat”, he says as he places his hands on his hips. 

But Ahsoka is no idiot. Ahsoka is not incompetent, she can see a trap for what it truly is. And sure, Rex is watching her a little weirdly now, but she won’t let her guard down. “Why?”, she scoffs, breathing somewhat uneven. “So we can ‘talk’? No, thanks.” She goes to walk past him, but Rex won’t move. Just barely suppressing a growl, she maintains his eye and cooly states, “Rex. Don’t make me hurt you”.

There’s just a bit of hesitance in Rex’s eyes, something in him seeming to believe her, but he still holds his ground. It’d be admirable if Ahsoka wasn’t considering the plethora of ways in which she could annihilate him. 

When Rex speaks, it’s like she’s listening with earmuffs, his words muted by the rage running wild, untamed within her: “I don’t think you have it in you”.

“If I were you”, Ahsoka breathes out. “I wouldn’t test that.” She’s about to go back the way she came when Rex reaches out to grab her wrist, to which she angrily snatches it away, her stance gone defensive, her spine straight, her canines on full display as she stares him down. 

“Okay”, Rex stutters out, lifting his hands in a placating nature “I’m sorry.”   
“Quit pestering me”, Ahsoka snarls, all pretense of the mission gone.  _ Fuck _ the mission, okay? Whatever punishment her master can cook up, it can’t be much worse than this. At this point, she’d probably rejoice at whatever manner of horrid he can bring about her. “Don’t touch me, don’t talk to me, don’t even look at me, or I will hurt you so badly that your own brothers won’t recognize you.  _ Do you understand me? _ ”

Something about the way he looks at her doesn’t sit right with Ahsoka. Something not quite fearful of her, as she’d been aiming for, but fearful for her. “What?”, she demands, tasting blood upon her tongue as it pricks against one of her fangs.

“...Nothing”, Rex says at last, still not moving. “You just...look a little pale.”

“What the hell does that...mean?” Ahsoka trails off as she looks down at her arms and sees the nauseatingly healthy orange skin of her alternate plagued with the lifelessness of her true body. And the longer she stares, the more prominent her veins become, black and pulsing. 

_ Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.  _

“You’re sick”, Rex remarks, and Ahsoka turns her back to him, breathing heavily as she focuses on purging all the nasty feelings from herself for the time being. Force only knows the last thing she needs is for her Sith eyes to appear because there’d be no explaining that.

She tugs down the sleeves of her robe, shakes her head, and bites out, “I’m fine, Rex”. Then, teeth gritted against the ensuing words, “Sorry, for what I said before. I just...I just need some space”. 

“All due respect, Commander, I think you need a lot more than space.”   
But Ahsoka isn’t listening. She’s walking, walking, walking, and getting closer and closer to the door that will lead her to big, open space, where she can escape curious eyes and prying questions. 

Whatever plans she might’ve had: finding the nearest speeder-bike and fleeing to the lower levels for the rest of her existence; ducking into a meditation lesson and waiting until all her pursuers lose interest; or throwing caution to the wind and slaughtering as many members of the Order as she can before letting them put her out of her misery. Whatever plans she might’ve had, they all effectively go out the window because it’s then that she sees him, wrapped in several layers of bandages and brandishing some rather nasty-looking burns. Ahsoka freezes, heart lodged in her throat, her control of her darkness momentarily wavering as she stands there.    
To his credit, Anakin looks just as shocked but nonetheless lets out a breathless, “Ahsoka” and flashes her a smile bright enough to put his twin suns to shame. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Okay so trigger warning, this chapter gets a little violent, in terms of a character's thoughts getting kinda gorey. It's mostly vague mentions of dismembering people, but I'm throwing it out there just in case. Ahsoka gets very imaginative when she goes a minute without regularly killing people 😗😗😗.  
> Also, we're going back in time to explore Ahsoka's childhood; how the Son found her basically, stuff like that. So yeah. Tw for child neglect, child abandonment, and child endangerment.  
> And thanks for reading! As always, I'd love to hear how y'all are feeling so don't be scared to comment, I promise I'd love to read them😉😉😉.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I know it's been a while lol, sorry for the wait. Honestly don't know where this is going, but I really wanted to get this out there. Hope y'all like it.

Before the Order, Ahsoka lived an okay life. It wasn’t one of affluence, but it wasn’t one of poverty either. They were comfortable, as her mother would often say. So comfortable, in fact, that Ahsoka would often wander off from her village.

It was shortly after the annual festival or another that Ahsoka got lost. Like, really lost. The kind of lost where you can spin in circles and not know where you come from, the kind of lost where everything starts to look the same. The kind of lost where, for the first time in her short life, she began to experience hunger. 

For a long, long while, Ahsoka was on her own. She managed fairly decently for a toddler in the wilderness, relying primarily upon instinct and what she’d begun to learn from her elders. It was only after taking down her first akul, scrambling its teeth into an appropriate headdress and quickly devouring its flesh, that Ahsoka truly admitted that she was in trouble. Togrutan do not hunt alone. Togrutan do not sleep alone. Togrutan do not live alone. She may be able to survive on her own, but it would not truly be living.

Perhaps that’s why, when she first heard the rustling in the bushes, her first instinct was to rush towards them, as opposed to away, like she’d always been thought. In any case, when she quickly identifies the rustling as a stranger’s, Ahsoka takes a shaky step back, weakly hissing at the man before her.

But the man was gentle and kind, remaining where he stood while Ahsoka anxiously searched for an exit. “Are you lost?”, the man asked her, to which Ahsoka merely growled. Seeming to recognize her reluctance, he lowered to his knees, a gesture which Ahsoka quickly read as a sign of submission; it gave her a sense of control over the situation, like, for the first time in weeks, she could afford to let her guard down. 

“I saw the corpse of an Akul a little ways back”, the man said lowly, hands out in a placating gesture. “Was that you?”

She can admit that her ego inflated ever so slightly at this recognition. Taking one step forward from the boulder she’d hid behind, she forever kept her eyes on potential paths of escape but nonetheless nodded and lifted her fingers to her headdress.

“It’s very impressive.” He lifted a hand and held it out to her. There was some sort of package within his hands, and it smells of-of old, dried meat. Ahsoka turned her nose up in disgust but approached him all the same. She was in no position to turn down any food, no matter how unappealing.

That being said, she didn’t come within more than a meter of him, eyeing him steely until he tossed the package to her. With an almost ravaging patience, Ahsoka tore it open with her teeth, then poured the bizarre food into her mouth. 

“I was looking for a friend when I came across your...neighbors. They say a Force-sensitive child wanders, lost and searching for something”, the man said as he held out another package, this time eyeing her like he expected her to erase the meter between them. When Ahsoka just glowered at him, he nodded to himself, as if she’d somehow answered some unspoken question. 

He dropped the package, and Ahsoka’s instinct was to catch it with the pull her family warned her so much about. 

The man just hummed and said, “Do you have family?”, and it was only then that she considered he might’ve been the thieves her village lived in fear of. All the same, she couldn’t find it in herself to be afraid. Maybe it was just a part of the facade, but there was something about this man that made her think she could trust him. Be it a childlike naivete or fear of being left alone or the otherworldly sight provided to her by the pull.

Whatever it was, it made Ahsoka completely and entirely lower her defenses. “...No”, Ahsoka said, tilting her head to the side as she tried to read the strange man before her as she also considered the village she left behind. Eye markings furrowed in confusion, she shook her head. She couldn’t have had a family. If she did, they would’ve come for her surely, not left her to the wilderness, to fall amongst the rotting bluewoods and festering rivers. “I don’t know.”, she amended, arms wrapped protectively around her. And the other villages wouldn’t take her in. For fear of enticing a war or enacting the curse of the Lost Ones, she’d be left to her own devices.

The man seemed to understand this because he said, “I can find you a new family”. And this time, when he held out a hand, Ahsoka accepted it, allowing herself to be scooped up into his arms and carried away, neverminding the blood staining her clothes. “What is your name?”, the man asked, and Ahsoka yawned, suddenly tired as she answered, “Ahsoka”.

The man just held her close, patting her back as they both disappeared into the high grass. “I’m Plo Koon. I’m going to make sure you’re taken care of.”

For a long time, he adhered to his promise. Even when his attention was taken elsewhere and she found herself spending time alone as she had in her lost days, Plo Koon would always make time for her. 

Then, of course, the Clone Wars hit, and things became a little more hectic. Then Tarkin set her up for murder and...needless to say, they haven’t been very close since. 

“I didn’t think you were the meditating type.”   
Ahsoka inhales sharply, taken out of her body as she opens her eyes. If she peers to the left, she can get a good look out the blinds, to where the neon sign advertising “Decent Refreshers and Hot Cafe” flashes outside their hotel. With a sigh, she unfolds her legs, then casts a glance in Riyo’s direction as she comes sauntering out of the ‘fresher in just a bathrobe. “Honestly”, Ahsoka grumbles as she rises to her feet. “I’m really not. But it’s kinda a habit.”

Riyo simply eyes her as she dries out her hair. When she’s finished, she tosses Ahsoka a ration bar, then takes one for herself as she collapses onto the sole dingy bed in the room. It doesn’t escape Ahsoka that she still watches her warily, like Ahsoka could shed her mask any second and become a blood-thirsty tyrant again any moment. Though, all things considered, she really can’t blame her. “So you’re really a Jedi?”

“I was”, Ahsoka says after a moment. She remains where she is, on edge at the topic at hand and not certain Riyo would appreciate her being any closer than where she is.

“What was it like?”, Riyo asks. And Ahsoka...Ahsoka just laughs, airly, before replying, “Complicated”. That’s about as much as she can easily give, but she can tell that Riyo’s curious, mind bustling with inquiries. Needless to say, Ahsoka’s in no hurry to talk about it. “What about you?”, she counters as she plops down in the lopsided seat beside her. From outside, she can hear the sound of sirens rushing past, and in the room beside them, someone’s throwing a party. Ahsoka tries not to pay it much mind, but she won’t deny she’s on edge.

“What about me?”, Riyo sighs as she slips into the new clothes she and Ahsoka had snagged from a clothesline.

Suddenly aware of her own need for a shower, Ahsoka tunes out the background noise and murmurs, “Well, what’s your, you know, your history?”

The blinds to their window flicker with blue and red lights, and they both go stiff, anxiously waiting until it passes. “We should probably move on soon”, Riyo says after a long moment, arms crossed over her chest. As Ahsoka watches her, she can’t help but compare her to the only ever Riyo she’s ever known. With eyes so soft and full of so much wisdom and a smile reserved for only those closest to her. And just full of so much life, so much energy.

Then there’s this Riyo, who just seems like she’s been through so much and lost all hope. And all by Ahsoka’s hand, no less. 

“Right.” Ahsoka runs a hand over her face, then pulls a holomap out of her pocket. Confused as she is about everything else in this universe, at least the physical readout has stayed the same. “I was thinking the Outer Rim…” She trails off at the look Riyo gives her. “What?”

Riyo just shakes her head, eyes filling with something akin to disappointment, then mutters, “The Outer Rim is flooded with the Son’s influence”.

Well, then. Forget what she said before. She’s in a world unknown, and she doesn’t know where the fuck to start to make sense of it. “Where I come from”, Ahsoka offers sheepishly, avoiding Riyo’s eyes as she focuses on the multitude of planets soaring past her. “The Outer Rim is a good place to disappear. Not as much law enforcement out that way.”

Riyo just lets out a grunt and tosses her legs over the sides of their bed. “I’m guessing you spent a lot of time out there”, she murmurs as she pulls her boots on foot by foot. 

It takes everything in Ahsoka not to flinch. “It’s a...recent development. I-”

“Inner Rim it is”, Riyo sighs. She grabs the power card to their room, then starts towards the door. “Shower’s yours. I’ll be back later.”

“Riyo”, Ahsoka calls out and goes to grab her by the arm, only to stop at the flinch she gives. She lets her hand fall to her side, uncertain of how to proceed from here. Not even two months ago, she still considered Riyo a good friend, someone she could turn to in her Post-Order life, and she knew Riyo would say the same about her. To know what kind of “relationship” they have in this world, to know what she’s put her through... “I can’t even imagine how hard this must be for you”, Ahsoka says at last, drooping as she realizes that no matter what she says, it won’t erase what her alternate has done to her.    
The Riyo of her world was a timid, if determined, woman, small, petite, easily underestimated by those that didn’t know her worth. The same could be said of this Riyo taken to the extreme. Weathered by Force only knows what horrors, she looks like she could be blown over by a mere gust of mind. But that doesn’t make her withering stare any less gutting. 

“You’re right. You can’t imagine”, Riyo says, breathing slightly uneven. She clenches her hand into a fist around her power card, like she wants to shatter it completely. She closes her eyes, lets out scoff, then adds, “Maybe it wasn’t you. Maybe you aren’t just bullshitting me, maybe you are from some-some other reality, but it doesn’t matter. Not really”.

Ahsoka can’t really blame her for that. It’s just...hard. To see this woman, who looks so much like the only person that really stood by her side during the Trials, look at her, with eyes so full of distrust, so full of loathing. After a long, tense moment, Riyo turns back to the door, her hand hovering on the handle as she stands there, unmoving.

“Riyo?”, Ahsoka says, voice soft as she just looks at her. Not even a moment later, she places life forces just beyond their door. It’s to her relief that she doesn’t need to tell Riyo to make a break for the bathroom.

And the good thing about being on the run in an unknown world? She doesn’t have anything to take with her when she runs. The same could be said for Riyo, but, obviously, that’s for different reasons. 

They wind up scrambling out of the bathroom window, just in time when the door suddenly slams open. Ahsoka falls face-first into a muddied puddle, and the homeless Duros woman playing a bandfill pauses, startled and very clearly recognizing just who she is. 

“Come on!”, Riyo shouts, grabbing Ahsoka by her arm and pulling her to her feet. As they dart through the backroads, Ahsoka spots a hoload displaying their faces, with a plea by the Son in Basic scrawled out for their capture. He’s framing it as her having lost her mind, with Riyo merely being an unwitting prisoner. It could be worse. He could’ve called for their heads. 

“We’re not getting to the Outer Rim”, Riyo pants out as they run into an abandoned brewery. She peers out of the shattered windows, then whispers, “We need to stay oneworld, wait until-until it’s safe”

“It’ll never be safe”, Ahsoka insists but follows Riyo anyway into the sewer head she’s removing. “What are you doing?”   
“This isn’t my first time escaping”, Riyo explains before disappearing into the darkness of her sewer. It takes Ahsoka all of one second before she lets out a sigh and follows in her wake. 

: : :

“It’s been a while.”

Skywalker doesn’t look anything at all like she imagined. To be fair, the Skywalker from her universe was a quivering, pathetic excuse of a sentient being, and this one stands with the grace and confidence of a man beloved by the galaxy at large, so maybe it’s not a fair comparison to make.

But Ahsoka can’t help it. Because this man is just so starkly  _ different _ from what she’d been expecting. Clearly, it’ll take a lot more to break him than she’d given him credit for. But in a weird, roundabout sort of way, it’s actually kind of enticing. Where’s the fun in poking at a worm when she could poke at a bear?

“Anakin”, Ahsoka says once her breath has returned to her. “I...didn’t know you were returning so soon”, she adds, casting an accusatory glance in Obi-Wan’s direction, who merely shrugs and says, “It was kind of a spontaneous thing”.

“Yeah, I’ll bet.” Before she can say much more, Anakin steps forward and envelops her in a tight hug. Ahsoka,  _ obviously _ , doesn’t return the hug. Maybe she leans a bit into it, but that’s, you know, just so she doesn’t break cover. Because the mission means everything and Ahsoka,  _ obviously _ , cares so much about the mission and wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize it. 

Obviously. 

When Anakin pulls away, it’s of no real loss to Ahsoka-because she’s not a hugger and hugs are for pathetic weaklings and she is no pathetic weakling. 

Anakin, on the other hand, seems somewhat remorseful, like something terrible’s gonna happen to her now that she’s out of his arms. His brows are worried, the scar lining his eye contorted as he looks her over. 

“Are you all right?”, he asks and takes a step back. “You look a little...light-headed.”

That’s probably putting it mildly. Judging from the, to be frank, disturbed looks Rex is casting her way, she’s only just succeeded in maintaining her appearance as the untainted deserter. Which, mind you, is no easy feat. It takes a lot of energy to keep your turmoiling darkness suppressed, and she’s been doing it for a month now. “I’m fine”, Ahsoka replies with what she hopes is a reassuring smile. “Just, uh, haven’t eaten today.”

“Or slept”, Rex says pointedly, to which Ahsoka simply glares.

Anakin clears his throat, grabbing them both by the shoulders, and laughs unevenly. “Well, uh, it’s good to be back”, he says as he gives them a light jostle. “Ahsoka, can I speak to you a minute?”

Ahsoka nods, then follows in his stead, sparing Rex a single backwards glance before she follows him down the hall. “Must’ve been some mission”, she notes after they’ve been walking for a moment. 

“Oh, you wouldn’t believe it”, his voice darkening somewhat as he adds, “ _ Literally _ , you-you wouldn’t believe it”.

Curiosity piqued, Ahsoka joins her arms, sleeves consuming them as a group of Younglings goes rushing past them. It takes everything in her not to sneer at them. “But you’re back now.”

“Yes”, he says. “And I’ll explain everything but…” He pauses, then looks at her and says, in a soft voice, “You’re back”.

“That I am”, she says with a light smile. It’s annoying how easy he pries it out of her, but she blames that on the deserter’s influence. “I was in the area. Figured I’d drop in for a spell.” She then trails off, looking over his shoulder as someone catches her eye. Someone who feels...familiar. 

“It’s great to finally meet you, Auntie Ahsoka”, the woman greets as she approaches her, wrapping her arms around her, stupefying Ahsoka. Things aren’t all that different between she and her alternate for her to have a niece the same age as her. At least, she doesn’t think it is.

That said, when she looks at the woman, the name  _ Leia _ comes to her, and that  _ definitely _ doesn’t make any sense. She’s supposed to be the only one playing fast and loose with the rules of reality. Just who does this  _ infant _ think she is,  _ daring _ to think that she can rival against the greatest apprentice  _ in the whole fucking multiverse- _

“Ahsoka”, Anakin says, a gleeful smile upon his face as his hands come to rest proudly upon Princess Leia’s shoulders. “Look who’s all grown up!” 

It’s some hours later, after Ahsoka’s finished playing doting Auntie and awkward sister, when she’s found some downtime and fallen into another dream with the Son. He’s in the midst of ranting about her alternate’s escape-to be honest, Ahsoka’s surprised she hadn’t run off sooner- while she finds herself consumed with this peculiarity, to the point where the Son calls her out on it. “You aren’t keeping secrets from me?”, he muses as he descends into shadows all around her. “Are you?”

Ahsoka hesitates for but a moment before answering. “Of course not”, she breathes out. “Skywalker. He...he has a child, twins, apparently, from the future. Judging from their ages, I’d guessing they’re toddlers right now.” She brushes her hand against the back of her head, then sighs. “And if they exist in this world-”

“Then they exist in our own”, the Son finishes. “Continue on your journey. And keep your emotions in check.” Judging from the pointed look he’s giving her, it’s obvious her earlier outburst didn’t go unnoticed. Her lekku fleshes a heavy blue, and she lowers her eyes, kneeling before him. It is as normal, as comforting, as breathing. Eyes closed, head completely bowed in submission, Ahsoka says, “I will not fail you, master”.

It’s less a promise to herself than it is a threat. Failure is not, and has never been, an option. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback's always welcome and appreciated. I am open to concrit, be it about my writing or even some lore or terminology I might've gotten wrong. ALSO, I'm gonna be watching TCW, the original movie included, from start to finish, so if anyone wants someone to chat to about the show, I'll be here!  
> It was fun revisiting this! Thanks for reading and I'll see y'all again soon 😘😘😘.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'd love to hear what you thought of the story so please don't be shy. I had a lot of fun writing this, and I hope you had fun reading. Bye!


End file.
